


A Crippling Blow

by RoksanaLyasin



Series: Dragon Age One Shots [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Awkward situations, Awkwardness, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Iron Bull is a Good Friend, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Romance, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoksanaLyasin/pseuds/RoksanaLyasin
Summary: Iron Bull can't help but notice Dorian's sour mood, weeks of brooding that's bringing the atmosphere of the Herald's Rest down. He decides it's time to find out what's up with the mage, and see if he can help bring a spring back into his step.





	A Crippling Blow

**Author's Note:**

> **Dragon Age Prompt |[Click here to read it on Tumblr](https://roksanalyasin.tumblr.com/post/163275207987/for-dwc-its-not-what-it-looks-like-for-any).  
> **  
>  **“It’s not what it looks like…” for[@thevikingwoman](http://thevikingwoman.tumblr.com/) and [DWC @dadrunkwriting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/dadrunkwriting.tumblr.com).**  
>  **Rating:** Teen.  
>  **Characters:** Dorian Pavus, Iron Bull, Malakar Lavellan (OC).

Dorian sat slumped over his ale, staring down into the amber depths of the flagon, his head propped up by his hand.  He’d grown bored of the flavourless drink long ago and couldn’t bring himself to finish it, yet the idea of moving was somehow less appealing than staring into the contents as if it might hold the answers to the churning questions in his mind.

He glanced up when he heard heavy footsteps approaching up the stairs, Iron Bull’s horns coming into view before his smirking face and broad shoulders.  The chair across the table creaked as the massive Qunari settled into it.

‘Why the long face?’ Bull asked, leaning forward on meaty arms, the table nearly tipping up at the sudden weight.

Dorian gripped his flagon tighter, stifling a sigh. ‘I’m not really in the mood for company at the moment, to be quite honest, so, if you and your ridiculous excuse for armour could take their leave…’

Dorian let the sentence trail off, staring back down into the amber liquid, hoping Bull would take the not so subtle hint, but the Qunari was nothing if not stubborn. He leant closer, a calloused finger tapping Dorian’s chin.

Dorian swatted at the hand. ‘Do you mind?’

‘No,’ Bull said, smirking.

This time, Dorian did not mask his sigh. ‘What do you want, Bull?’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you ponder a drink so deeply. I’m just curious as to what has Skyhold’s most fabulous resident brooding so deeply.’

‘Was that a compliment? My, I never thought I would hear you utter such a thing.’

‘You just don’t ask nicely enough.’

Dorian groaned at the arched eyebrow and matching smirk, ignoring the underlying suggestion. ‘You’re insufferable, you know that?’

‘Yes, but I made you stop thinking about whatever you were thinking about for two minutes.’

Dorian met Bull’s one-eyed gaze, jaw clenching for a moment. ‘All right, that may be true,’ he said, lifting his flagon in a mock toast, ‘but now I’d like to go back to brooding.’

Bull easily snatched the flagon from Dorian’s hand, placing it on the table behind them. ‘Nah, come on,’ he said as he pushed up from the table, catching Dorian’s now empty hand, ‘there are already enough people here that bring down the mood. I’d rather you not add to the number.’

Dorian yelped as Bull dragged him to his feet, the warrior easily trapping the mage in his grasp. 

‘What in the–’ He gasped as Bull’s heavy hand landed on the small of his back, crushing their bodies together, his cheeks flaming– ‘Kaffas, unhand me!’

‘Once I’ve seen you smile, I’ll let you go,’ Bull said, a smirk curving on his lips, scarred face lighting up as they swayed to the soft sound of Maryden’s music as it drifted up from the floor below. When Dorian tried to pull away, Bull tightened his hold in challenge, daring the mage to fight against his embrace.

After a final moment, Dorian sighed in defeat, relaxing in Bull’s arms.

‘Now we’ve got that settled,’ Bull said, turning them in slow circles, ‘do you want to talk about what’s bothering you so much?’

‘Look, as much as I might appreciate you trying to cheer me up, I’m not even sure I can put it into words,’ Dorian admitted, still swaying with Bull, albeit half-heartedly. He looked up at the Qunari, meeting his one-eyed gaze.

‘Maybe you haven’t been talking to the right person about it.’

‘I haven’t talked to anyone about it.’

Bull arched the eyebrow over his one eye, and Dorian huffed out a breath.

‘All right, fine!’ Dorian snapped, ‘if you really must know–’

‘Dorian? Are you up here?’

Light footsteps sounded on the stairs and Dorian dragged his eyes away from Bull, watching as a shock of silvery hair with pointed ears peeking from between the strands appeared first before the rest of his slender form ascended into view.

Malakar stopped on the top step, the smile that graced his lips fading, bright blue gaze turning stormy. He glanced between Dorian and Bull, his feet frozen between two steps, and Dorian was suddenly aware of how close he was pressed together with the warrior, how close the Qunari’s lips were to his ear. Finally, Malakar’s eyes settled on Dorian’s, and Bull saw the shadows that flickered behind his icy gaze.

‘Oh shit,’ Bull muttered, preparing to release Dorian from his grasp, but it was too late, the image burned into Malakar’s mind.

‘I… never mind,’ Malakar said, reaching up to tug at the hair around his ear as he began to retreat down the stairs, ‘I– I’ll leave you two…’

Dorian pushed against Bull’s shoulders, finding no resistance from the warrior’s embrace.

‘Malakar!’ Dorian called as he stumbled towards the top of the stairs, ‘Malakar, wait, it’s not what it looks like!’ 

The Inquisitor was already at the tavern door, a blur of blue leather and silver hair as he raced out into the night.

Dorian gripped the railing, white-knuckled as he leant against the wood. He felt a weight settle in his stomach, gut churning as he watched the door snap shut.

‘Kaffas,’ he muttered, moving back to the table. He drained the flagon, uncaring of the bland taste as he tried to drown his guilt.

‘I guess that answers my question,’ Bull said, moving closer. He’d suspected there was tension brewing between the two mages for weeks, had seen the first hints of it in Dorian’s reaction to Malakar’s injury after they fought the Ferelden Frostback.

‘I’m sure if you give him time to cool off, he’ll talk to you,’ he said and he reached for Dorian’s shoulder but the mage flinched at the barest touch, shoulders bunching as he leant on the tabletop.

‘Just… go, Bull,’ Dorian said, voice hardly above a whisper, ‘thank you for trying to cheer me up, but I…’ He sighed. ‘I just want to be alone.’

Bull gave a curt nod before he turned on his heel. He did not glance back as he walked down the stairs. He knew already, as he heard the flagon clatter into the wall, that he’d seen too much.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments always appreciated <3


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